


easy to spot

by beatboxbmo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Meeting, M/M, Oisuga Week, Postcards, Strangers, i know nothing about nyc i am so so rr y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5710999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatboxbmo/pseuds/beatboxbmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa works in a tiny convenience store and is used to seeing tourists pop in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	easy to spot

**Author's Note:**

> 1: I lit. had not a single workable idea for this since I found out today's prompt  
> 2: my v good pal [Heidi](http://multimichu.tumblr.com/) gave me the initial idea for this  
> 3: my v good grankid [cherry](http://revangelion.tumblr.com/) helped me out with figuring things out for new York  
> 4: I think I killed my back sitting in this busted computer chair for almost 4 hrs tryna write this to finish it today (it's sometime before 11pm)  
> 5: lit listened to 'flashlight' by the front bottoms for most of the writing process  
> 6: it is also rly unedited so I am rly sorry for everything

The bell dings, signaling someone new has entered the store. Tooru doesn’t even glance up as he goes about straightening the gum rack near the register. Honestly, people are so messy. Always picking up one gum package and throwing it onto a different flavor’s pile. He can’t count the amount of times he’s had to reorganize the gums today alone, and it’s barely one p.m.

There’s humming, probably from the new customer, but Tooru has grown accustomed to the sounds people make when they shop alone. He himself is the type to mumble to himself when things get too quiet.

Then there’s the postcard rack being spun around slowly. Tooru glances up and finds a bundled up man running his fingers over each of the postcards, his lips uplifted and almost hidden by the large scarf tied around his neck. A beanie covers his hair, but what peeks out from underneath it curls in a glint of silver.

Tooru watches the man look through the postcards. Sometimes the smile dips deep, sometimes it lifts even higher. Looking at one of them, the man even chuckles. 

Tooru doesn’t know what’s so great about the selection. They’re all pretty generic. Vintage photographs of what NYC used to look like, aerial shots of Central Park, underexposed views of the skyline, and a million and one that say “Greetings From New York”. You could find all the same postcards in every single convenience store in the city.

Tooru doesn’t say anything. Abandoning the gum rack, he leans on the counter, propping his chin in his hand as he stares at the stranger. Sure, it’s cold outside, but the weather is still nice enough that a person doesn’t need a heavy coat, with a scarf and beanie and--are those gloves tucked away in his pocket? Tooru shakes his head. Maybe the guy just get cold easily.

“It’s not polite to stare.”

Tooru blinks at the singsong voice of the stranger, not at all surprised to find himself getting caught. It’s his job to stare at the people who walk in; his eyes are the only security this little store has.

The stranger glances at Tooru, his lips still lifted in a smile while a hand still rests on a postcard, the fingers idly thumbing it. The air leaves Tooru’s body as they make eye contact; the only thing Tooru can think of is “beautiful”.

The stranger moves first, shrugging his shoulders and stepping away from the rack. “Are those the only postcards you carry?”

Tooru still hasn’t lifted his head from his chin, his mind idly thinking about how good the stranger’s English is. The man peers down at him. Tooru raises a brow and hopes he looks indifferent. “What kind of person sends postcards these days? Or even actually sends mail that’s not a bill?”

The stranger huffs and glares down at Tooru. “Postcards are relatively cheap and offer an amazing view of the city.”

“They’re bait for tourists.”

“Well I am a tourist.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

They stare at one another, Tooru unmoving and the stranger unblinking. Then Tooru remembers the small stack of extra postcards they keep in the back for when the rack gets a little too bare. Some of them have been hidden away for ages, so he isn’t sure exactly what they have. It’s not like people rush into the tiny store to buy postcards.

“Who’s the postcard for anyways? Family? A girl?” Tooru pauses, and after a quick flick of the eyes up and down the stranger’s body, Tooru asks, “A guy?”

The stranger’s eyes narrow and a smirk slides across his face. “I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

Tooru finally pulls away from the counter, spreading his hands out in a noncommittal motion. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you choose something.”

“Who says I need help?”

Tooru folds his arms across his chest and looks the stranger up and down again, pointedly looking at the jacket and beanie, like him doing so is enough of an explanation. 

The other man scoffs. “Are you going to help me or just keep mocking me because I’m a tourist?”

Tooru purses his lips, then lowers his arms and sighs. “We have some in the back. Give me a moment and I’ll pull them out for you.”

“Thank you.”

The back of the store is dusty and dark and Tooru hates going back here. He refuses to keep inventory and keep it clean, afraid of what he might find back here. He’s fine dealing with all sorts of slobs, but dust bunnies and cobwebs make his skin crawl. 

He finds the box of postcards easily, the only box by itself on a middle shelf off to the side. It’s not light, but he’s lifted heavier things.

Tooru almost expects the stranger to have fled, the cash register broken and all the money gone. Tooru’s eyes widen as he realizes that very well could have happened. Wouldn’t be the first time.

But instead, the stranger is back at the postcard rack, thumbing through them and humming to himself. 

Tooru clears his throat and lifts the box a little higher when the stranger glances over. He dumps it on the counter and rounds it, making sure it’s between them again. The beanie is gone, and the stranger’s silver hair is messy and wild and all Tooru wants to do is reach out and touch it.

Instead, he coughs, and starts pulling out stacks of postcards.

Most are in rubber-banded bundles, but a few have escaped and are strewn about the box. He piles them out on the counter and helps the stranger sort through them.

Plenty of postcards with Lady Liberty on them. Another million “Greetings From New York”. Then, surprisingly, there’s a few random cards with photos of the Brooklyn Bridge Park, the Queens Museum, and, ah, Coney Island. Lovely Coney Island. Tooru rolls his eyes but plops them all down in front of the stranger.

“These are the type of postcards you need. Great places that tourists hardly ever know about.”

The stranger raises a thin eyebrow and picks the cards up, studying each photo before moving onto the next. 

“Well, I’m sure everyone knows about Coney Island. But I’ve never heard of these others. Tell me about them.”

The stranger smiles at Tooru again. There’s a lump in Tooru’s throat that he gulps down, unsure if he’ll be able to describe how neat these places can be. 

But he tries. Tourists come and go, and Tooru usually never pays them much attention, but some part of him wants to open his arms to showcase the city in hopes the stranger will stick around a little longer to get to know it all. 

As Tooru talks, the stranger nevers takes his eyes off Tooru. It makes him nervous, but he doesn’t mind talking about his city. It’s only when he finishes mentioning the great waterfront view the Brooklyn Bridge Park has to offer that the stranger’s eyes move away and he starts to fidget.

“It does sound nice,” the stranger says. 

Tooru shrugs and goes back to leaning on the counter, propping both helps on the countertop, his hands intertwining under his chin. Like this he can see the stranger’s face a little better.

His mouth is hidden behind the scarf, but Tooru can see the way his cheeks pull back in a smile. It has his heart thumping.

“I’ve heard the best way to get to know a city is to get to know the locals…” the stranger trails off as he finally looks back up at Tooru.

Tooru gulps again, but forces himself to stay nonchalant. “I do happen to know this city very well.”

“Care to show me around sometime then?”

Tooru opens his mouth to reply with something snarky, or maybe to just simply agree. But then he asks, “What about the postcard person?”

The stranger’s face immediately shifts into something bewildering, a frown sinking his lips while one of his eyebrows shoots up.

“I don’t think my mother would mind me going out with a complete stranger, but honestly it’s none of her business.”

Tooru can’t remember the last time his face felt so hot.

He pulls away from the counter, a cough erupting from the back of his throat as he moves to put as much space between him and the stranger as possible.

Before the coughing subsides, small laughs fill the store. 

The stranger has a hand held to his mouth to hide his lips. Tooru’s face is still burning, but the initial embarrassment is already fading. 

“Ah, that was priceless. The look on your face,” the stranger lowers his hand and shakes his head, the laughs subsiding. Tooru scowls and starts to organize the postcards.

“If you’re done teasing a defenseless employee, I have to ask that you either buy something and get out, or just get out.”

“Oh, come on!” 

“Nope,” Tooru pouts and avoids looking the stranger in the eye. Any eye contact and he knows he’ll break. “You’ve wasted too much of my precious time already. There’s other people I need to tend to.”

It becomes very clear how empty and quiet the convenience store is. The stranger snorts and reaches into the box of postcards and pulls one out.

“The Brooklyn Bridge Park huh…” his voice is absent-minded as he flips the postcard to study both sides. “She doesn’t know this place isn’t that popular.”

The look the stranger gives Tooru has him gulping again. Out of habit, he says the first thing that comes to mind whenever someone asks about the park. “They have free wifi.”

There’s a hitch to the stranger’s smile. “You gonna give me a tour?”

“Well I’m no tour guide… but I’m okay with getting a little turned around.”

The stranger’s eyes drifted downwards before meeting Tooru’s. 

“I’m okay with getting a little lost.”

**Author's Note:**

> u can scream at me at my [main](http://chickentendous.tumblr.com/) or [side](http://sidetooru.tumblr.com/) blog if u want


End file.
